Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

my skirt over my knees. Arthur remained standing for several seconds, his hand hovering over the back of the seat next to mine before he finally sank into it with a small groan.

“Evelyn is in the lobby,” he whispered, leaning closer until I could smell the peppermint on his breath. “She is worried about what you are going to do to continue reading …